


Terror

by AceDetective



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series), Thomas Sanders, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Happy Ending, Pre Accepting Anxiety, Pre-Episode: Accepting Anxiety, Virgil has it rough, almost everyone has a anxiety attack at one point, anxiety attack, this sort of replaces it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-25 08:11:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15636708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceDetective/pseuds/AceDetective
Summary: Virgil is tired of being ignored by the other sides.Based off a post by ahoardofsides on Tumblr. Post found here (https://ahoardofsides.tumblr.com/post/175920218990/p-u-t-t-i-n-g-o-n)





	Terror

Virgil appeared in his room after another unsuccessful session with Thomas and the sides. The four ignored every point he made today. Even Logan! Virgil thought the two were starting to see eye to eye, but he was wrong. One debate didn’t make Virgil’s ideas worthy of Logan’s consideration.

_“Don’t mind Doom and Gloom, Thomas.”_

_“His arguments are highly illogical and have a low chance of occurring.”_

_“Now, Kiddo, there’s no need to be so melon-choly.”_

Virgil was done being pushed around and ignored. If they didn’t want to consider his opinions worthy of consideration, then he’d force them to hear them. He knew what to do.

He needed to change. Putting up a dark persona was the best way to get anyone’s guard up. If Thomas’ guard was up, he’d listen when Virgil told him about dangers. He’d be vigilant. Virgil needed to become darker, it was the only way to make the others listen. Once, his current persona held sway over Thomas, but Virgil was losing this power. He couldn’t protect Thomas if he didn’t want to listen to him.

Virgil stood before his mirror and took in his appearance. He didn’t look dark, he looked scared. Weak. Virgil scowled and immediately started to search for the sources of his weakness. His slouching made him look smaller than the others, so he stood up straight. He shrugged off the jacket he never left his room without. He depended on it for comfort, not for warmth. Virgil shouldn’t need it.

He grabbed his eyeshadow from his dresser and applied another layer to darken it. When finished, he set it down and scowled at his reflection. The changes he made were a good start, but there was still more to do before he could take on the other sides.

Virgil closed his eyes and concentrated on Thomas’ anxieties. Normally, he tried to take on a large portion of Thomas' anxiety but right now, Thomas needed a little fear. Virgil felt his anxieties ease as most of it returned to Thomas, no longer held back by Virgil. Without his filtering, Thomas would be left to bear the burden alone.

Virgil felt strangely good. Happy even. He was finally going to get what he wanted from the others. They couldn’t ignore him anymore and now, he wasn’t too anxious to speak up.

All he needed to do was wait. He looked to his abandoned jacket and scooped it up. He looked over the jacket, recalling the times he’d clung to it after an anxiety attack, desperate for comfort when no one would offer it. Virgil scrunched his nose in disgust and threw the jacket into his trash can. He didn’t need it anymore.

Virgil sat down on his bed and pulled out his phone. He opened the Tumblr app and lazily scrolled through the posts, only half paying attention. He didn’t care for memes at the moment, or the darker Disney analysis. Right now, he wanted to see how long it took Thomas to react to the change.

After a while, he felt the familiar tug of Thomas trying to summon him. He closed his phone and slid it into his pocket. Virgil smirked and stood up straight, allowing himself to be pulled to the manifester.

He appeared in his place on Thomas’ staircase. Now, he could see how the others reacted to the changes he made. From there, Virgil could decide if this was enough, or if he needed to make more drastic changes to himself. He pushed down his own nerves and glared at Thomas.

The manifester looked . . . Anxious. Virgil’s lips coiled into a smirk as he observed his influence. The changes he made were working.

“What have you done to Thomas!” Princey demanded.

Virgil snapped his head to look at Roman. He shrugged his shoulders and looked back to Thomas.

“ _He has anxiety, Prince_ y,” Virgil distorted his voice, startling the others in the room. _“This is what I do.”_

Virgil felt his shoulders start to sag, his body instinctively trying to shrink down under Roman’s harsh glare. Virgil didn’t allow it. He straightened out and focused his gaze on Roman.

“Where’s your jacket, kiddo?” Patton questioned. “Are you alright?”

Virgil stifled a laugh, _“I don’t need that thing anymore.”_

The concern on Patton’s face didn’t fade to fear, it only intensified. Anger bubbled in Virgil’s stomach at the observation. It wasn’t enough, after all, he had to change more before they’d listen.

“This is a temporary spike of influence. It will return to normal in time,” Logan assured Patton. “Thomas’ schedule changes are causation to higher amounts of stress. Anxiety will be himself again once we better adjust to these changes.”

The anger that bubbled in him before boiled over and Virgil sank out before another word could be spoken. It wasn’t enough! He let out a low hiss and stood before his mirror once more. He hadn’t felt this angry in a long time, not since he abandoned the dark sides in hopes of the light sides’ acceptance.

He wasn’t going to get that acceptance. That was fine. He’d force them to listen. 

* * *

Anxiety found himself spiraling, yet unable to care about it. His name? It was gone, shed with the false hope that he’d ever care about another side enough to share it. Anxiety didn’t mind, not when Thomas was finally listening to him again. It took a while, but the wait was worth it.

Anxiety stepped out of his room and walked down the hall. He could feel Roman trying to make Thomas create something. Thomas was anxious about it and whether the creation would be well received. Anxiety knew it wouldn’t be. He knocked on Roman’s door and waited.

“Come in!” Roman called, unaware of who it was at his door.

Anxiety smirked and let himself in.

_“Princey, what did I say about creating? Everything you create is worthless. Why try?”_

Roman flinched when Anxiety spoke. The creative side turned around with a forced smile on his face. His eyes were dull, the spark of creation fading as he remembered Anxiety was correct. Roman looked to the ground and placed the paper he’d been writing on in Anxiety’s waiting hand.

Anxiety read it over and laughed coldly, _“Good thing I stopped you. This is horrible.”_

It truly was. Like every video he tried to inspire Thomas to make. Anxiety prevented this now, of course. He hadn’t allowed anything to be put out in weeks. He almost got Thomas to delete the last video Thomas made before it was put, but Joan and Talyn convinced Thomas at the last second not to and the video was put up.

Anxiety crumpled the paper up in his hand and left the room. He couldn’t trust Princey to dispose of the video idea properly, so Anxiety would throw it out himself. As he walked down the hall, he spotted Patton watching him with a frown and flashed him a wicked grin. Patton flinched and looked away.

“Anxiety,” Logan stepped out of his room. “Can we talk?”

Anxiety looked the to the side, he looked awful. His hair unkempt and his tie was hanging loosely around his neck over a crinkled shirt. The fear and anxiety radiating off him was too much for Anxiety to ignore.

Anxiety smiled, “ _Of course, Logic.”_

Anxiety followed Logan into his room, where he found the waste bin overflowing with crumpled papers and more discarded papers on the normally clean desk. Anxiety took a seat on Logan’s desk chair.

“ _Thomas wouldn’t be behind schedule now, would he?”_ Anxiety asked. “ _If only Princey could think of something good.”_

Anxiety crossed one leg over the other and smugly looked to Logan. The other side looked appalled by Anxiety’s actions.

“I believe you are the cause,” Logan crossed his arms.

“ _It’s your job to keep Thomas on task,”_ Anxiety mused, absentmindedly playing with the crumpled idea from Roman. “ _You failed, Logic.”_

Anxiety focused on Logan and sent a strain of fear to him. Logan hated failure and feared it more than anything else. Now, he’d allowed Thomas to fall behind schedule, unable to contain Anxiety and inspire Roman.

“ _It’s your fault,”_ Anxiety repeated, standing from the desk chair.

Anxiety stepped forward and got a better look at Logan. He was pale, eyes wide as his stare matched Anxiety’s. Anxiety didn’t miss the way Logan’s shoulders shook or how he fidgeted uncomfortably under Anxiety’s gaze.

“I-I didn’t-”

“ _Try hard enough? We know, Logan, we know.”_

Anxiety watched as Logan fell apart in front of him. The normally composed side collapsed to the ground with a strangled wail, fingers curled into his hair. Anxiety grinned and walked past the broken side and to the door. Logan continued his crying, unable to free himself from Anxiety’s influence.

Patton ran past Anxiety into Logan’s room. He scooped Logan into his arms, as Anxiety glanced back to admire his work.

“It’s okay, Lolo,” Patton cooed, holding Logan close. “I’ve got you.”

Anxiety turned away and continued out the hall to return to his room. In his room, Anxiety threw out Roman’s discarded video idea, the crumpled paper landing on top of the black jacket in his waste bin.

Part of Anxiety felt giddy. He reduced Logan to inconsolable tears. Anxiety didn’t allow himself to express those emotions though, not even to himself. His work wasn’t done yet and it wouldn’t be until he could control Patton. 

* * *

 

Thomas stared down at his phone, the caller ID revealing the caller to be his friend Leo. The thought of answering the phone made his stomach flip. He couldn’t do it. Thomas swallowed thickly as his thumb hovered over the button to answer the phone. Maybe he’d be okay this time? He’d been friends with Leo for a long time, surely Leo wouldn’t be annoyed with Thomas.

 _Put the phone down Thomas_.

As Anxiety told him to put the phone down, he lost the ability to breathe. All he could imagine was how badly the phone call could go. He didn’t want to lose Leo’s friendship. If he answered and said the wrong thing, he very well could.

Without hesitation, Thomas followed the order and placed his phone on his coffee table. Guilt coiled in his stomach as he once again ignored one of his friends. Yesterday, it was Terrance and Talyn who he ignored. Today, the list was much worse. Joan, his mother, his father, heck all of his brothers had called him, and now Leo, but every time, the same thing happened. Anxiety didn’t allow him to answer.

_They don’t care._

“B-but . . .” Thomas trailed off knowing he wouldn’t win the argument.

His phone dinged to announce a voicemail, but Thomas didn’t dare check it. Anxiety was right. He shouldn’t bother anyone when they don’t care about him.

Thomas grabbed the remote off the coffee table and turned the TV on to watch Netflix. He silenced his phone and put it down, screen facing the table. He needed to get his mind off the phone calls and The Office always cheered him up.

Soon enough, he found himself immersed in the show and forgot why he wanted to check his phone originally. He only came back to reality when there was a series of sharp knocks at the door.

_What if it’s a murderer?_

Thomas froze up and stared at his door.

_Goingtodiegoingtodie!_

“Thomas! Open up, dude!”

Joan. Thomas bit the inside of his cheek, wondering what to do. He wasn’t going to die, but he couldn’t face Joan.

_Make them leave!_

Thomas flinched at Anxiety’s order but knew it was for the better. He paused the episode and rose from the couch. Thomas walked to his door and unlocked it, before allowing Joan entry. Upon opening the door, Thomas was knocked back as Joan launched themselves at Thomas. They hugged him tight and shut the door with their foot.

“What the hell, dude?” Joan asked as they pulled away. “Are you okay?”

Thomas shrugged his shoulders, his words caught in his throat. He wanted to give his friend an answer, but he couldn’t. The idea of speaking made him want to be sick. Joan seemed to understand and led Thomas over to the couch to sit down. Joan spotted the phone and picked it up.

“So you knew we called?” they asked.

_They’re mad. They hate you._

Thomas couldn’t do anything than nod. He couldn’t lie to his best friend, no matter how afraid he was. Lying would make it worse.

“I-I . . .” Thomas trailed off, unable to think of what to say.

_ThEy hAtE yOU!_

Thomas flinched at Anxiety’s exclamation.

“Thomas . . .” Joan frowned, sitting beside him. “Whatever is going on, you have us. Don’t forget that.”

Thomas allowed a small smile to creep onto his face at Joan’s reassurance. Joan smiled back and grabbed the remote from the coffee table.

“If you’re having a hard time talking, we don’t have to,” Joan assured. “For now, we can just watch some Netflix?”

Thomas nodded at the idea. Anxiety was screaming in his head, but it was hard to believe Anxiety’s claims as fact when Joan was in front of him. Anxiety got louder and louder as Thomas settled in next to Joan and the episode resumed. As the episode went on, Thomas found it getting harder to breathe. His chest hurt. He did his best to focus on the episode but couldn’t.

“-omas? Thomas?”

Joan was talking. He couldn’t entirely make it out. His vision blurred, but he could see enough to recognize Joan standing in front of him. He believed Joan was trying to lead him through a breathing exercise to help him breathe, but Thomas couldn’t keep the time.

_YOU’RE A BOTHER! THEY HATE YOU! THEY HATE YOU!_

“-the in for four seconds,” Joan’s voice broke through Anxiety’s screaming.

Thomas breathed in and looked to Joan as his friend counted. Joan held up their fingers as they counted, realizing Thomas had trouble focusing on their voice.

“Hold for seven,” Joan instructed.

Again, they slowly counted to seven with their fingers as Thomas held his breath.

“And out for eight,” they finished.

In the same way as before, they counted to eight. At the end, Joan lowered their hands and looked to Thomas. The man slumped against his couch, exhausted. Joan stood and dusted off their jeans.

“We should get you to bed. Are okay on your own tonight?” Joan asked, concern in their eyes. “I can stay if you need me.”

Thomas shook his head. He’d be fine for tonight. Joan helped Thomas stand and together they went upstairs to Thomas’ bedroom. In the room, Thomas collapsed onto his bed without bothering to change his clothes. 

* * *

Patton wanted desperately to help Anxiety. They pushed him away, did their best to silence him and never considered how it hurt the younger side. The hurt became too much to bare and Anxiety was gone, replaced by a side truly awful.

Patton stood frozen with fear as pitch black veins crawled up ~~Anxiety’s~~ Terror’s neck and onto his face. The moral side felt sick to his stomach as he felt the mindscape shift to accommodate the changes. His kiddo changed so much. Did he deserve to refer to the other as “kiddo”? Patton wasn’t sure. If Patton hadn’t watched as Anxiety became the monster before him, he doubted he’d realize the two were the same.

“Kiddo . . .” Patton whispered, covering his mouth with one hand.

“ _I am not your kiddo!”_ Terror snapped. “ _You had your chance! Now, it’s mine!”_

Fear surged through Patton as Terror’s vengeful gaze rested on him. Patton gasped for air as his lungs seemed to cease working. His knees gave out beneath him and he collapsed to the floor, clutching his chest. He couldn’t breathe!

_His fault. His fault! HIS FAULT!_

Patton let out a silent sob at the reminder of his failings. He let them all down. He didn’t help Anxiety, couldn’t save Roman and Logan, and couldn’t help Thomas cope with the extreme fears supplied by Terror.

Patton forced himself to look up at Terror. The side smirked at him and turned away, releasing Patton from his hold as he disappeared up the stairs. Patton felt his ability to breathe return and sat up from his position on the floor. He focused on breathing in and out as exhaustion seeped into his bones.

As the father figure in the mindscape, it was his responsibility to take care of the others. The other three sides were in desperate need of his help, no matter what one might think. Terror wasn’t his kiddo. This was correct. Anxiety was and he’d treated him poorly. Now Patton would rectify these wrongs by freeing his dark, strange son from the corruption that consumed him.

Not only that, but Patton would ensure Anxiety was heard from then on. The situation Patton found himself in was created by their constant ignoring and belittling of Anxiety. The kiddo only wanted to be heard and thus became so focused on making them listen, that he lost himself. Patton didn’t care what it took, he’d find his kiddo and bring him home.

“Pat?” a weak voice whispered in his head.

Patton felt a tug in his stomach and allowed it to pull him out of the mindscape. Thomas needed him. He rose up in his spot by the window and looked to Thomas. The manifester sat on his couch, knees pulled tightly to his chest.

“Hey, there kiddo!” Patton forced on a cheery expression.

He had to be strong for all of them, if he wasn’t, there was no one else left to.

“My friends don’t hate me, right?” Thomas’ voice shook. “. . . Right?”

Patton felt his heart break. In the time since Terror’s appearance, Thomas cut ties with his friends and family. His kiddo had no one to turn to. Terror overpowered the rest of the sides and wouldn’t allow Thomas to think anything other than his friends hating him.

Patton knew Terror’s words were false but couldn’t get it through to Thomas. Anytime he tried, Terror would interfere and force Patton into a panic.

“Kiddo, there’s no-”

“ _Way they care about you,”_ Terror interrupted as he appeared. “ _Right, Morality?”_

Terror glared at Patton. Patton fidgeted where he stood and looked back to Thomas, who stared down at his lap. Patton bit his lip and faced Terror.

“They care about Thomas,” Patton forced out. “They’ve never abandoned him before. Joan was here yesterday to check on Thomas!”

Terror rolled his eyes, “ _They’re pretending.”_

“Joan wouldn’t,” Patton argued, passion filling his chest.

Patton had to defend their best friend’s honor and make Terror see he was wrong. There was no way Joan, or any of the others, would abandon Thomas like Terror claimed. Patton had faith their friendships were stronger than Thomas’ fears.

“Patton, I think he’s right,” Thomas admitted from his spot on the couch.

Patton frowned. He could feel Thomas’ uncertainty. The manifester wasn’t sure which side was telling the truth, but Terror’s influence was louder. Thomas’ fears screamed in his head, reminding him just how wrong he was. They mixed with Patton’s causing the fear in Patton’s chest to grow. He took a deep breath and looked up.

“Terror isn’t, Thomas,” Patton spoke with a startling serious tone. “Joan came by because you are friends and they want to help. If Joan were in your shoes, you’d stop at nothing to help them, as they would you.”

Thomas nodded, taking in Patton’s words. Joan helped him yesterday when they didn’t have to. They came by because of their friendship. They were worried about him. He knew he’d do the same for them, no matter what. Patton was-

“ _NO!”_ Terror exclaimed. “ _Patton’s wrong! ThEY hAtE Us!”_

Thomas flinched at the exclamation.

Patton walked over and took Terror's hand in his, expression hopeful, but with the slightest hint of fear in his eyes. Terror didn’t understand, but the hand felt strangely _good._

"Kiddo, this isn't you. We hurt you, and for that, I'm sorry. Come back to us," Patton pleaded.

The idea of snatching his hand away tempted Terror, but for whatever reason he allowed Patton to hold onto it. Terror narrowed his eyes as he focused in on Patton, the only side he couldn't seem break. Roman had been easy, and Logan, just barely took more work to break.

"We didn't listen when you were afraid for Thomas, when you didn't want to shapeshift, or when you had any concerns or fears," Patton's voice shook. "I'm here now, and I know it's too late, but I'll listen. You don't need to put up this act. Not anymore, kiddo."

Terror smirked. He was breaking Patton, just not with his fear tactics. Patton was wrong though, this was no act. The weak version Patton wanted to return was gone. Terror couldn't remember what he once referred to himself as. All that matter was his new role as Terror.

 _"That's the thing, this isn’t an act. It is too late.”_

* * *

 When Terror sunk back to his room, he was shaking. He couldn’t figure out why. His chest hurt and his stomach did flips. He cursed his trait as it exposed his remaining weakness. Terror locked his door and leaned against the wall.

 _“You’re fine,”_ he growled out. “ _Don’t be weak.”_

The feeling in his chest only grew as he attempted to push it down. He slid down to the floor and clutched his chest. It was getting harder to breathe by the minute.

 _“NONONONONONONO!”_ He screamed.

Before he could stop it, tears streamed down his face and onto his grey shirt. He tried to wipe them away, but it was of little use. He let out a sob and curled in on himself. Terror was furious. He’d put in too much work, gave up too much, for him to crumble now. Still, he cried and screamed until he couldn’t breathe. He gasped for air and coughed. Tears streamed down his face, but he couldn’t scream anymore.

Terror hated Patton. It was Patton’s fault. If Patton hadn’t tried to help, Terror would be fine. The frustration building up was overwhelming for Terror. He yelled and threw his out his fist, hitting the wall. It provided relief for a moment before the frustration returned accompanied by the throbbing of his left hand.

There was a tentative knock at his door, “Terror?”

Terror hissed at the speaker and scrambled away from the door. Terror forced his tears to stop, fiercely rubbing his eyes on his shirt sleeve. He couldn’t let anyone see him like this. He didn’t want to lose to Patton and give him back the weak, easily ignored version of himself. Terror grabbed a hat from his dresser and moved his hair to cover his eyes. He walked over to the door and unlocked it, allowing Patton entry to his room.

“Kiddo . . . Were you crying?” Patton asked.

Terror glared back at him with puffy eyes. Patton gasped as he realized this, despite Terror’s efforts to cover them up. As terrifying as Terror tried to be, he couldn’t look farther from it at that moment. His eyeshadow ran down his face and was stained on his shirt where he wiped his eyes.

“I meant it when I said I’d listen,” Patton held back his own tears.

Terror mulled over it. He couldn’t allow Patton to get to him, but he was tired. Just so, so _tired._ He couldn’t control Patton, no matter how hard he tried. He did his best, but then Patton turned around and made Thomas change his mind! After Terror already convinced him of what to believe! He _still_ wasn’t enough.

_“Why should I believe you?”_

Terror spotted the tears in Patton’s eyes. Part of him knew he could take this chance to break Patton, but the rest of him no longer held the motivation to fight that battle. He was done.

Patton sighed, “You don’t have to, if that’s what you want. I am so sorry, Anxiety.”

Anxiety? Terror bit his lip and watched Patton in confusion. Was that his trait before? It felt familiar. Anxiety. The word was more comfortable than Terror, softer and worn in his mind. It had to be his old trait.

“ _Is that_ . . . who I was?” Terror asked.

A wide smile spread across Patton’s face. Terror’s voice wasn’t distorted! He quickly gave an affirmative nod and held out his hand.

Terror stared at Patton’s hand hesitantly before reaching out his own and taking it. His every instinct screaming at him. He shouldn’t show how weak he was. He needed to hide it. _Bad. Bad. Bad._ As his hand slipped into Patton’s, he realized just how tired he was. His shoulders slumped with the weight of the situation. For the first time in weeks, Terror couldn’t force himself to stand up straight.

Patton led him out of his room and to Patton’s own room. Patton sat him down on a bean bag chair and let go. The eldest side left him there as he went to the closet where the sides’ memories were stored. It wasn’t all their memories, many of their memories were stored in Logan’s room, such as the ones that helped them do their jobs. Patton’s room stored the ones which served to remind the sides of who they were and what they represented.

“I know you got rid of it, so it should be here . . .” Patton rummaged around the closet, his back turned to Terror.

Moments later, Patton cheered in triumph and turned out. In his hands, he clutched a bulky black jacket. Terror’s eyes widened with realization. He could just faintly remember throwing this jacket away. He recalled how soft it was. Patton walked over and placed the jacket on Terror’s shoulders.

Terror slipped his arms into the jacket and closed his eyes. The jacket gave off a comforting lavender scent. He took in the scent and allowed himself to relax into the jacket. He felt safe, safe enough to fall asleep in another side’s presence, something he’d never allowed.

* * *

Patton sat down on his bed as he watched Terror relax in the bean bag chair. He wasn’t sure if the other side was still awake or not. Either way, Patton didn’t want to disturb him. He needed to guide him back to them, to remind him of who he used to be. This wasn’t just for Terror’s sake, but for everyone else’s, Patton’s included. Patton was tired. He knew Terror was tired. Everyone was. They couldn’t continue like this. Thomas couldn’t live a functional life if this continued.

“It’ll be okay . . .” he mumbled to himself. “Just stay positive.”

There wasn’t much Patton could do. He didn’t want to leave Terror alone right now, as much as he wanted to check on Thomas, Roman, and Logan. Patton fished a photo album from underneath his bed and searched through it, content to lose himself temporarily in the memories.

The album contained photos of the sides over the years. It was mainly Roman, Logan, and Patton in the photos, with another side joining occasionally. Anxiety was only present in a few from the days Anxiety first came to them from the dark sides. After those days, Anxiety slowly started to spend less time with them, sometimes by his choice, and sometimes by theirs.

_“LEAVE ME ALONE!”_

The days Anxiety wanted to spend alone, he’d end up shouting at whoever tried to speak to him. It improved, but not before it harmed his relationship with the other sides.

_“WE DON’T WANT YOU AROUND ANYWAYS, YOU VILLAIN.”_

It wasn’t true. For Roman, it might’ve been, but Patton wanted to be friends with Anxiety back them.

Patton stared at the last photo with Anxiety in it. They were teens in the photo. Patton had just stared wearing his glasses. In the photo, Patton’s arms were looped around a mildly annoyed Anxiety. Anxiety wore the same jacket that Patton had draped onto Terror moments before.

Shortly after the photo was taken, Anxiety and Roman had their first fight. The topic of said fight being Anxiety’s name and how Anxiety refused to share it. After that fight, Anxiety never spent time with them, unless Thomas needed him too. They never found out his name. Now, they may never find it out. Patton moved on from the photo as guilt grew in his stomach.

He flipped through the pages of the albums and found himself grinning as he remembered happier times. Roman taking Logan and Patton questing. Logan excitedly telling them about a new discovery he made. Patton only looked away from the album when he felt the mindscape shift. His head snapped up and he looked to his bean bag. The dark veins on ~~Terror’s~~ Anxiety’s face had faded away.

His door swung open and Logan ran in with Roman behind him. Both looked relieved when they saw Patton sitting on his bed. He raised a finger to his lips to prevent them from shouting then gestured to Anxiety.

“The change in the mindscape, it wasn’t you?” Logan asked.

Patton shook his head, “It was Anxiety.”

“I’m glad you’re okay, Padre,” Roman beamed at him. “What do we do with Dark and Sinister over there?”

Patton stood from his bed and went to Anxiety. He gently picked up the younger side and placed Anxiety onto his bed. Anxiety was asleep if he didn’t react to the changes in the mindscape.

“First of all, you stop that,” Patton turned back to Roman. “Vilifying the kiddo got us into this. For now, we need to take care of him.”

Roman looked like he was going to shout, but Logan placed a hand on his arm. Roman looked at Logan surprised. Logan knew how dangerous Anxiety was!

“Patton is correct. We are at fault for what occurred. We need to treat Anxiety better and discuss this when he awakens.”

Roman scuffed, “He isn’t innocent!”

Patton covered Anxiety with a blanket as the discussion went on. Both were correct. Anxiety did initially choose to scare them into listening to him, but only did so because of their treatment of him. It was something the four would need to work on together.

He was the only one to notice when Anxiety woke up. Logan and Roman were too busy going back and forth on who the blame rested on. At this point, Patton was tuning them out. He would correct them both later.

“How’re you feeling, kiddo?” Patton asked.

Anxiety sat up in the bed and rubbed his eyes, further smearing his eyeshadow. It was then Logan and Roman stopped their argument to turn to Anxiety.

Anxiety gripped the blanket in his lap, “What happened?”

Patton let out a sigh before he began to explain. The entire time, Anxiety was silent. At the end of Patton’s story, Anxiety tried to get up from the bed.

“You should rest,” Patton pushed him back down.

“No! He should explain why he did all that!” Roman exclaimed.

Anxiety nodded, “Princey’s right, Patton.”

Patton shook his head. He wasn’t going to let Anxiety put all the blame on himself. His dark strange son was back and needed to rest. Anxiety looked ready to pass out, although he’d just woken up. After what Anxiety went through, Patton was positive he wasn’t thinking clearly either.

“No, he isn’t. We can discuss it when you’ve rested,” Patton said. 

* * *

 “- and then Septimus Sleep woke up as his dark and edgy self,” Roman finished.

Thomas nodded. He glanced at Anxiety, who remained quiet the entire discussion. Thomas hadn’t noticed him even attempting to add in a detail or acting like he wanted to.

“Anything to add, Anxiety?” he asked, not wanted to exclude him once more.

Anxiety looked anxious as he shook his head. Thomas raised an eyebrow at the nervous action. There was something, but Anxiety wasn’t saying it.

“We won’t ignore you,” he assured. “The floor is yours.”

Thomas waited for Anxiety to be ready. He wasn’t going to push him further, only remind him he can speak his mind around them. Thomas didn’t want Anxiety to feel like he had to force them to listen again. He had to admit, it was a rather unpleasant experience that he didn’t want to repeat.

Speaking of, Thomas still needed to call his family and friends to apologize for ignoring them. On top of that, they were severely behind schedule for filming and videos . . .

“I know and I’m sorry,” Anxiety sighed. “It’s my fault you’re behind.”

“We’ve gone on hiatuses before,” Thomas informed him. “It’s alright.”

The look on Anxiety’s face made it clear the side didn’t believe him. Thomas knew that wasn’t all Anxiety wanted to say, so he waited and tried not to think about the things he was anxious about.

Anxiety looked way from Thomas and to Patton, “Without you, we wouldn’t have gotten through this. Thank you.”

When Anxiety spoke, he fidgeted nervously. Thomas agreed with him. Patton made him believe his friends and family still cared while Terror screamed at him that they didn’t. It was Patton who took care of them the past few weeks. It was also Patton who helped Anxiety come back to himself.

“Aw, shucks. It isn’t a big deal, kiddo,” Patton’s cheeks reddened.

“Anxiety’s right, Patton,” Thomas added. “You saved us.”

Patton beamed at the praise.

“One more thing,” Anxiety said, eyes glued to the floor. “MynameisVirgil!”

Thomas smiled with the realization Anxiety finally trusted them with his name.

“I think that’s an awesome name,” he said.


End file.
